


Five Star Review

by Ais (mikaaislin)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaaislin/pseuds/Ais
Summary: Deity's not like most of the other gods. Then again, that's what drew the traveler in the first place.





	Five Star Review

“So, I hear you’re God.”

“Deity.”

“What?”

Deity took a huge bite of their pineapple fried rice taco and spoke around it. “Ma bame’s jayiby.”

There was a pause, and then: “Oh.”

Deity gestured with one of their free hands to the bar stool next to them. The traveler glanced around the restaurant but at the moment, the two of them were alone. All the lights were off and even the staff had gone home.

“Do you always break into restaurants on your world?”

Deity tried to reply but didn’t get very far before nearly choking. They stopped, finished their bite, and took a swig of their Thai tea horchata. “I didn’t break into anything.”

The traveler settled onto the stool, one arm canting up to rest on the bar counter. “Then where is everyone?”

“They went home.”

“Then why are you—?”

“Why should they waste their time waiting around for one customer?” Deity shrugged. “I came while they were still open, ordered my food, paid, and told them I’d clean up before I go. You have a problem with that?”

The traveler gave them an odd look. “The people here must not know you’re God—”

“Deity.”

“—deity.”

“They do know.”

“Then why leave such menial…” The traveler looked around, seemingly perplexed. They shook their head and fell silent.

Deity quirked an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t bother responding. They continued to eat their taco.

“I came here to ask you a question.”

With a snort, Deity reached for the Thai tea horchata. That was finished in record time. 

“Don’t you want to know what I want to ask?”

“Not really.” Deity pushed the glass further up the bar top to keep from knocking it over, and spoke around the rest of the taco. “Seebs lige a bain.”

The traveler sighed and turned around on the stool so that their elbows could rest on the bar behind them. They surveyed the empty restaurant, their multiple eyes catching and releasing on the details of the washed floor, the closed shades, the open and empty till, the chairs already carefully stacked on top of the tables…

Deity finished the taco, and grabbed the plates and glass. When the traveler made no effort to move, Deity sighed heavily and cleaned up. Even after the dishes were washed and dried and returned to their place, even after the bar top was wiped down, and Deity had finished a last sweep of the floor and put the garbage out in the dumpster, the traveler remained. 

Finally, the only task left was locking up and leaving. Which Deity couldn’t do as long as the traveler was there. 

With another heavy sigh, which Deity hoped would be audible enough to give the traveler a hint, Deity returned to the bar. But the traveler was still staring at the empty room, and didn’t move until Deity sat back down with extreme begrudgement.

“Are they afraid of you?” the traveler asked, looking over. 

“What?”

“The people of this world. Are they afraid of you?”

Deity made a face. “No. Why should they be?”

“What about the afterlife?”

“What about it?”

“How do you give it to them? What tasks must they do while living in order to achieve what they want, and what happens if they fail?”

Deity sighed even louder and flopped back onto the bar with their upper body, spreading their legs straight out in front of them. They squinted up at the ceiling. “Ugggh, you’re one of them…”

“One of who?”

Deity couldn’t be bothered to explain better, so they just waved their hand with a, “Those types.”

“Those type of what—”

“UGGGGH.” Deity wanted to just get up and leave but it was such a bother. And even more of a bother, knowing the traveler would probably follow them around until they satiated their obnoxious curiosity and justified or challenged their insecurity. 

The traveler watched them raptly, and seemed to innately understand that at that moment, saying nothing was increasing the chances Deity would say something.

Finally, Deity let out a loud groan and flopped over to their side, one arm outstretched against the bartop, other arms curled in front of them or gesturing as they spoke.

“What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“Me?”

Deity rolled their eyes. “Yeah, you. Who else?”

“I’m a newly sanctioned saint from a world far away. I’ve been searching the galaxies for the answer for how best to treat my subjects, but so far I’ve gotten nothing but conflicting information.”

“Let me guess. The god or gods on your world let people choose whether they believe in them, but if they don’t then they have some terrible, horrible, no good fate in store. If they do, it doesn’t matter what else they do in their lives; if they checked off that box of Believer, they’re safe for whatever afterlife is supposed to be best.”

The traveler nodded.

“What about the other gods you’ve talked to?”

The traveler shrugged. “Some do the same, others do it different. There doesn’t seem to be consensus.”

“Of course there isn’t. You should do what you want.”

“But the problem is, I don’t _know_ what I want. I was born from the ashes of the dreams of my world; my sainthood makes me the protector of the dreams of my people, but I don’t know what they really want, and neither do they. They ask me to give them their dreams so I can then save them. They lost their way after our great wars, and I feel pressure to guide them down the right path. But no one will tell me what that path is.”

“That’s because no one _can_. Every world, every meaning, is different. The only way to represent the dreams of your people is to _ask_ your people.”

The traveler’s many eyes closed. They braced a hand to their temples, and sighed. 

Deity sighed as well, because this was going nowhere. “Why are you here?”

“I heard of this place from others on the periphery. They told me of a world created by a god of the lost and forgotten, and that this god got a high rating. Although I don’t know what that means, I wanted to ask someone whose meaning is tied into something similar to mine. I may be of dreams, but I feel like my people’s dreams themselves are lost and forgotten after such an endless, harrowing war.”

“The rating is related to the reviews.”

The traveler peered between their fingers. “The— what?”

“Reviews.” Deity waved a hand to indicate their surroundings and, ostensibly, the world. “From my people.”

“Your people… leave their god a _review?”_

“Of course. This is a game, after all.”

The traveler sat up straight. “What? But… this is a regular world, and I was told nothing of the sort…”

Deity pushed themself up to sit with one leg tipped up at a jaunty angle and their arms bracing them from falling off. With one of their hands, they waved the traveler down. “Don’t get all lost in whatever imagining you’re having right now. It’s a game for everyone, but it’s also not a game.”

“I don’t understand.”

Deity made a face. “This is such a pain.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude—”

“Ahh, forget it.” Deity scrubbed at their face, with one hand up in a calming gesture, and another hand ticking fingertips against the counter. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. I get spirituals like you, sometimes.”

“So then, what did you mean about..?”

“Listen. This corner of the universe is a risk and reward system. There are too many gods so we compete against each other. We all spawn in the same world, and use our ingenuity, charisma, or whatever talents we have to make a name for ourselves. If we catch the right eyes and do a good enough job, a small portion of the galaxy is cleared away for us to build our own world. The idea is to build the best world for the population we want to watch over, and then we do whatever we do and the world does its thing. Most gods make that world in their likeness of an idealized utopia, and they create everything from the people to the elements, and then watch it like a hawk. Your god would’ve done the same thing on your world, same as all the other gods who created a whole system of worship around their names.”

The traveler made a hmming sound deep in their throat, and rested their chin on their hand. “You said ‘most gods’… you didn’t do this?”

“Nope. I don’t like playing god.” At the quirk of the eyebrow Deity got in response to that comment, Deity scrunched up their face and waved a hand. “Hey. I didn’t get to choose how I was created, but I get to choose how I live. I don’t like that whole lording-over-everyone’s-business thing. It reeks of insecurity.”

The traveler’s eyebrows rose. “How so?”

“Well, how insecure do you have to be as a god, to create an entire world and system of people, give them the ability to choose whether or not they believe in you, but then get all mad if they don’t and send them somewhere bad instead? Are you kidding me? Why should you care if they believe or not? It’s not like your efforts no longer matter if they don’t recognize them. It’s not like you’re any less of a god, or they’re any less of your creations. If you don’t like the idea of them questioning you, don’t give them the ability to question in the first place.”

“From what I understand,” the traveler said slowly, “the idea is they should have faith regardless. It’s the point of faith to believe in the unknown, so if they believe even without proof that shows their devotion.”

“Yeah, so? What’s the point of that? If people want to believe in you as a god, fine. If they don’t, it shouldn’t matter. If anything, it should just be interesting to watch. If you’re a god who can’t handle the idea of a single person not believing in you in their mortal lives, and your way of reacting to that is to punish them to eternal damnation, then you shouldn’t be in charge of a world. You should go back to the competition and rework your strategy. Simple as that.”

“So then… what did you do so different here? You just don’t care if people don’t believe in you?”

Deity’s ass was getting tired on the wooden bar stool so they hopped up to sit on the edge of the counter. “Well, first of all, yeah, I wouldn’t care. But that’s not what I did here.” Deity’s gaze passed through the restaurant and out to the world beyond; the dark of the night overtaking this area, the people asleep in their beds and the people out and about; the pale cast of artificial light against the gloom. “I decided I wasn’t going to make a world as a game just for me, like the others did. I didn’t make the people, either. I built a world and left it open for everyone. Those other worlds where the gods are so insecure they can’t handle not being the sole focus of a single person? They aren’t the world for everyone. Some people, despite being created by that god, weren’t built to blindly believe in someone simply for the act of making them. They grow tired of the dichotomy, feel lost by the expectations or forgotten on the periphery, and end up here.”

“So, if you didn’t create them, what about their afterlife? Aren’t they still beholden to that other god?”

Deity frowned. “No. The whole afterlife thing is bullshit, anyway. People go where they believe they need to go for their soul to improve over the course of its reincarnations, if they reincarnate. A god may be able to force a type of afterlife on someone with effort, but without that interruption they would go wherever they would go. Which means, on my world, they’re allowed to take their natural course without divine intervention fucking up their path.”

“Doesn’t that anger the other gods?”

“Some of them? Sure it does.” Deity shrugged. “But what do I care? They’re just a bunch of whiners. If they didn’t want people leaving them, they should have made an effort to convince them to stay instead of being entitled to thinking love and blind devotion was a requirement that came with people being born. What kind of logic is that? I don’t care what or who you made; you don’t inherently deserve anything if you aren’t willing to also earn it. If you’re going to ask that of your people, you should first be asking that of yourself.”

“And the reviews you mentioned?”

“Oh.” Deity kicked their feet idly in front of them, their heels brushing against the edge of the stool. “When I made this place, I decided to let the people in on the game. They can get any information they want on the way gods work, if they ask, or they can choose to remain oblivious. They can find out who I am and where to find me, or they can pretend I don’t exist. They can believe in me, worship me, ignore me, not care about me, worship someone else, worship no one at all, do whatever they want. I don’t care. The only thing I do is make sure every inhabitant of this world, whether they migrate or are born here, know how to leave me reviews and get me information. If they think I can improve the world in some way, or improve myself, I want to know. If they don’t want to give me that information, it’s fine, but the line is always open so they know no matter the time or circumstance, I’m here.”

“That’s… quite the innovative system.”

“It shouldn’t be. How could I call myself a god of the lost and forgotten if the first thing I did was ignore their voices and make them feel alone?”

The traveler didn’t have an answer for that, yet the question seemed to trouble them. Though their eyes faced downward, Deity felt that their sight was going inward. 

Deity pushed themself off the counter. They dusted off their clothes, while holding a hand out for the traveler to take. After a moment, the traveler did. Their hands would have been warm to one another’s touch, were they mortal, but being that they both were spirituals Deity felt nothing but the slow pulse of the universe. Deity pulled the traveler to their feet, then hooked an arm around the traveler’s shoulders while gently guiding them toward the door.

“Travel with me for a week. I’ll show you how this works in practice. At the end, though, you have to go back home.”

“But what if…?”

“You’ve been at this too long already. Your people want their dreams. You need to be there to protect them.”

“But I’m worried that I’ll—”

Deity put a hand over the traveler’s mouth. “You won’t.” They spoke louder when the traveler tried to protest. “You won’t. The fact that you’re questioning any of this means you’re already a step ahead. But my place is unique where you can talk to mortals freely without worrying about worship creating lies or falseties out of their fear for survival. Ask the people here what their dreams were, what their story was, why they fled, and what would bring them back. If you get enough perspectives from enough worlds, it should help you in your questions for your own world.”

The traveler’s eyes brightened at the thought. “That’s… a good idea. I’ve only been talking to gods so far. Maybe who I really need to survey are mortals.”

“Yep, since they’re the ones who matter most in your sainthood. Besides. You know where to send them, should they ever feel lost or forgotten by your deeds. My world is always open to any entity in the universe that needs a home.”

“That’s true… Here, they’ll find family.”

“Right,” Deity said as they stepped out into the warm summer air. “Here, they will always belong.”

The traveler was silent, their mind clearly churning quickly. They worried at their lower lip, their gaze downcast despite the beautiful city laid out before them like a field of stars dotted across the landscape. The amber glow of so many lamps should have drawn their attention upward, up the nearby hills, up even to the stars that painted the landscape of the sky. But the traveler’s focus was inward, still; mulling over the details.

“What if…” The traveler’s voice surged and ebbed. It fell quietly into the night, and took its time being regained. “What if I try and fail? What if the answer I think they need now is no longer the answer in the future? Or what if I _do_ succeed? What if they don’t need me anymore, once their dreams are fulfilled? How do I find my identity, then?”

Deity rocked the traveler against themself lightly. “I just told you. My world is always open to _any entity_ in the universe that needs a home.”

The traveler breathed in. “Even… me?”

“Even if the dreams you protect are lost or forgotten, you won’t be. Return here, and I will welcome you for as long or as short as you need. Besides,” Deity added, “a god like me could always use a dreamer at my side. After all, this world is _my_ dream, so if nothing else, you can protect that.”

The traveler smiled and looked ahead for the first time. “I see. Then, my deity, lead the way for me now, so that maybe someday I will lead the way for you.”

Deity grinned. “I’ll hold you to that promise, traveler.”

“I hope you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just another short story I felt like writing... I've been trying to write a 1500 word short story but I keep going long. I think Deity is one of my favorite characters I've made, because despite their power they seem like they'd have a great time just hanging around the universe, leaving all the drama to the other worlds so they can enjoy their meal and drink some horchata. If I had to have a god, I think that's the sort of god I'd like.
> 
> Oh... so, anyway, this was the story I mentioned could potentially be in the same universe as another short I posted. Edge of Reason maybe? I already forgot. I'm very helpful.


End file.
